


When Shadows Beckon

by Indiana_J



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, friendship to romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7364236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indiana_J/pseuds/Indiana_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the fall of Voldemort, Hermione Granger is happily living her life when everything is turned upside by the disappearance of Lucius Malfoy. Hermione and Harry must form the most unlikely of partnerships in their attempts to locate him. But as things grow more complicated and more dangerous, Hermione finds herself embroiled in a mystery larger than just one man.</p><p>A mystery that threatens the people she loves and, perhaps, the Wizarding World once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which lines are crossed and help is requested.  And tea is had.

Of all the remaining injuries, mental and physical, that Harry Potter had carted away from seven years of pitting himself and his friends against Voldemort, the one that he hated the most were the headaches.  The aches in his joints, the tightness of patches of skin, the nightmares … those things could be overlooked or dealt with and then put away.  Those bore witness to his younger years, nothing more.

 

But the skull crushing, mind-blowing headaches that had apparently been the Dark Lord's parting gift?  The ones that flared sometimes after a long and difficult case as an Auror; or after an intense go with Ginny; or even if he simply forgot to eat?

 

No, those weren’t quite so easy to ignore.

 

Grumbling, Harry massaged at his head with one hand as he shoved open the door to his office with the other.  And it _h_ _ad_  been a long day - he'd been woken up just before dawn by Gawain Robards' head in the bedroom fireplace.  That particular fireplace had been spelled to allow only a handful of people direct access to lessen any ‘accidental interruptions’.  And generally only in case of emergencies; that morning, Robards had had one hell of an emergency.

 

Earlier that morning, Robards’ had tersely explained to the Potters, the alarms attached to the Malfoy case had all gone off at once, causing the entire department to spin into overdrive.

 

Lucius Malfoy, while having been _mostly_ pardoned for his crimes, had been placed on general house arrest for fifteen years.  Allowed only to go to a handful of pre-agreed places, with allowances made on a case-by-case basis, the elder Malfoy had seemingly stuck to the agreement.  Harry had always thought that it had been partially the man's pride and partially the man's desire to protect his family that had driven him to abide by the rules.  Whatever his personal desires, he’d obviously set them aside - after all, fifteen years was a long time even by wizarding standards but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

 

Having already seen the inside of Azkaban, Harry had no doubt Lucius Malfoy had no desire to be within its walls once again. And so, he’d quietly gone about serving his sentence...

 

Until that night, when the Auror's office had been made aware that Malfoy had somehow managed to escape the tracking magic placed on him and had fled only to Merlin knew where.

 

Harry had then spent the entire day talking with various suspects, looking over the known locations that Lucius had last been seen at and generally driving himself into a headache that was bound to last all night.  The department was in a complete tizzy and everyone was screaming for Lucius' blood.

 

But Harry, who had never been the Malfoy's greatest fan, had kept his opinions to himself.  Something about the entire affair felt off.  The fact that both Draco and Narcissa had been left behind didn't sit well with him at all.  He was surprised to find that he wished he'd been allowed to question them instead of having someone else do it.

 

When the door fully opened and Harry got a good look inside his own office, he realized he might actually get the chance.  A discrete movement had his wand sliding into his hand as he took a step backwards, preparing to launch into a defense if he had to.

 

"Malfoy," he said lightly, trying to will the worst of the headache away.  It abated slightly and allowed his head to clear somewhat.

 

His unexpected 'guest' stood studying the racks of books and files on the opposite end of the medium sized room.  Despite his casual stance and manner, Draco was as disheveled as Harry had ever seen him off of an actual battlefield.  With no robes or even a well cut coat on, Draco looked ... somehow smaller in just the black pants and white shirt.

 

"Potter," he drawled, "tell me you have something stronger than dust bunnies around here.  I find myself in need of a stiff drink."

 

Since becoming an adult, most of the time Draco Malfoy was no fool.  Standing in the office of one of the top ranked Auror's, in the middle of the Ministry, and probably under intense watch after the disappearance of his father, the chance that he would pull a stupid stunt was incredibly low.  Attacking the famed Boy Who Lived was probably fairly high on the ‘stupid stunt’ list.

 

With a shrug, Harry slipped his wand back into the hiding case strapped to his forearm.  It had been a while since he’d done anything stupid himself, might as well make it count.

 

Shaking his head in confusion and exasperation, he closed the door behind him before heading over to his desk.  In the bottom drawer was an 81 year old bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses.  He had no idea how Andromeda had managed to win that particular auction but she'd presented the gift to him on the last anniversary of the war.  He'd opened it only once before when Ginny had revealed that they were going to be adding to their family but he had a feeling that both he and Draco could use a glass.

 

Draco's eyebrow raised a notch when he spotted the quality of the drink but made no comment beyond a murmured 'Thank you' as he solemnly accepted the glass.

 

"How'd you manage to talk your way in here, anyway?" Harry asked curiously a moment later as he gently turned his own glass in his hand.  It had been a long and weird enough day that he left the question "And _why_  are you here?" unspoken.

 

Unspoken or no, Draco's lips twisted in wry acknowledgement of the very fact.  "I simply told my watchers that you wanted to speak to me directly," he responded, slipping into one of the chairs opposite Harry's.  The smirk was there, if tired.  "Do the Auror's fill their staffing requirements with _all_  Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff's?"

 

"We have a few Ravenclaw's scattered about - somewhere," Harry remarked but the banter held no heat or malice on either side.  With a sigh, he decided to forgo the Slytherin's sideways approach to the question at hand.  "What do you want, Draco?"

 

The other man muttered something about Gryffindor tactics as he took another drink but Harry ignored it, unwilling to rise to the bait.  The next sentence, however, was something he couldn't ignore and he sat back with a startled look as Draco almost spat out "My mother and I - we believe need your help."

 

After a moment of silence, he leaned forward and refilled both of their glasses.  The end of the war had brought an end of active hostilities between Harry and the Malfoy family but they had never been friends or had even desired to be so.  They spoke on occasion during social events and when the need arose but nothing more than that.  Harry knew what the admission must have taken for Draco to actually come out and say something like that.

 

"You don't think your father ran off."  It wasn't a question.  And it was the same thought that had been bouncing around Harry's skull all damned day.

 

"It's completely out of character," Draco immediately replied, leaning forward to perch his arms on his knees.  The glass dangled haphazardly from his fingers as he frowned at the floor.  "Not to mention stupid.  As you know, he only had to endure another five years of the terms of his arrangement and he would have been completely free."

 

"And he's never once mentioned attempting to, hrm, circumvent the situation?" 

 

"Oh, of course he did.  He is, after all, still my father.  He tested the boundaries that first year -" As the Auror's already knew.  "But after that he simply stopped talking about it and started living with it."

 

Neither mentioned how it would have hurt his family, both in standing and general living, if Lucius had _succeeded_  that first year.

 

Draco continued with his eyes fixed firmly on Harry’s desk.  “Father was starting to talk about what he was going to do after those five years were up.  Not simple holiday plans but _business_ , as legitimate as you’d please.”  He met Harry’s eyes with defiance.  “Not something you would expect of a man who was planning on skipping town.”

 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Why me?"

 

Draco chuckled darkly.  "Because, Potter, despite our past history, I knew you at least would listen to me.  You've always been a sucker for injustice of any kind and, former Death Eater and family or no, you won't pass this one up."

 

Despite the rude gesture Harry flipped Draco's way, he knew it was true.  Enough people, himself included, had been treated unfairly in his lifetime that he couldn't overlook the possibility that Lucius and his family would certainly get steamrolled by the system when something else might have happened.

 

"Give me one reason, one solid reason," he said slowly, "that you think your father didn't manage to break free and run off and I'll help you."

 

Gripping the glass in his hand, Draco leaned forward.  "He left his cane behind."

 

Harry sat up.  "Where?  We searched all the places that Lucius has been recently and no one was able to locate it.."

 

The smirk was back.  "You _didn't_  get up into the attic, then, I take it?"

 

Of course not; the magical signature that trailed Lucius hadn't ...  Harry facepalmed and groaned.  The man had gone into the attic of the Manor after, then, he'd slipped his leash.  Robards would have someone’s head for that mistake.

 

"I'll get my cloak."

 

***

 

Despite the late hour - almost midnight - the Malfoy Manor was as brightly lit as most houses just after nightfall.  And as Harry and Draco hurried up the path to the front of the house, Harry caught occasional glimpses of house elves as they dashed to and from on the lawn.  He knew from experience that they were probably repairing the damage to the grounds that had been happened as Aurors walked on previously pristine grass.

 

Before they had left, Harry had spoken to the magical switchboard operators to verify that the last of the Aurors on the grounds had already left.  The situation was, at best, tenuous and while he worked well with and admired most of his fellow co-workers...

 

Well.  "A light touch", something Harry had to work at even after years on the job, was sometimes just a little beyond them.  Especially when the entire management department was in an uproar for results.

 

The doors to the Manor swung open soundlessly as Draco approached them but Harry slowed as he crossed the threshold.  Unbidden and unwelcomed memories washed over him as he took a steadying breath.  He hadn't been back inside the Malfoy estate since he, Ron and Hermione had made their escape with the others.  Eleven years on and a host of newer nightmare material lost their grip as the doors closed behind them.  He was no longer the Boy Who Lived, or the person who had defeated death to put an end to Voldemort, or even a senior Auror with just over a decade of experience.

 

He was a young man, exhausted from the hunt for Horcruxes, and absolutely terrified for his friends...

 

"Mr. Potter."

 

Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut through the memories like a knife.  He blinked at her and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement.  The past was buried and it was time to deal with the present.

 

Draco’s mother stood next to where her son had come to a stop.  She, like her house, was fully dressed despite the hour and she glanced from him to her son.

 

"He's agreed to help us, Mother," Draco murmured.

 

"As much as I can, anyway," he responded hastily, unwilling to get anyone's hopes up.  Even a Malfoy’s.  "So far I'm able to work on this on my own but I have to tread carefully."  He actually had a partner but Katie Bell was currently away with a family emergency.  And he could still ride a little of his lingering fame to get away with this for a while at least.

 

Narcissa hesitated just slightly before she nodded, gathering her composure around her like a cloak.

 

Harry scrubbed at his hair for a moment as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts.  The headache had faded to a dull ache but it combined with the long day and the odd circumstances enough to muddle his brain.

 

"Alright, alright," he murmured before turning back to them.  "Mrs. Malfoy, I know you've had a long day - trust me, I know - but as we go to the attic, I'm going to need you to tell me everything you told the others."  There was a pause and his voice turned wry.  "And anything you _didn't_  tell them, too."

 

While there was no visible reaction from her, he could have sworn that Draco almost laughed as they turned and headed towards the stairs.

 

Being a rather large house, Narcissa was easily able to give Harry the details of the previous night and that day as they walked up the numerous staircases.

 

The previous night had been rather mundane: they had dined with Draco and his fiancé, Astoria Greengrass, and they had all spent the remainder of the evening in each other's company before the younger pair had retired.

 

Harry learned that Draco was still living at home while Astoria resided with her parents until the wedding.  She was, however, in residence at the moment in order to talk to Auror's and help the family as much as she could.

 

Narcissa and Lucius had retired not long after, at which point she paused and Harry, for his own sanity and Draco's, didn't push on what happened _after_  they had gone to their bedchamber.

 

She continued and said that around one in the morning - a time that Harry knew she hadn't divulged in her earlier interviews - she woke briefly when Lucius left the bed.  When he asked if that was unusual, she had shaken her head.  “Confined as he was, in the last few years my husband has taken to wandering the grounds at all hours of the night.”  She had simply gone back to sleep and hours later had woken to find Auror's on her doorstep and her husband gone.

 

By the time she wrapped up her tale, they were standing on the last staircase and had reached the attic door.  Harry was unsurprised to find that while none of them normally entered that particular part of the house, Lucius had sometimes made his way there during his wanderings.  The house was large but not large enough for a man essentially trapped there for fifteen years.

 

"One of the house elves reported spotting Father's cane-"

 

"Was that one of the handful of house elves that hadn't been on official duty last night and was, thus, on the list for tomorrow's-" Now, Harry supposed, today.  "Interviews?"

 

Draco just smiled slightly and continued.  "But Mother and I simply peeked in ourselves before I went to collect you."

 

Harry turned towards the woman in question who, in turn, opened the door and started to step through.

 

His breath caught in his throat as he peered past her; neither Malfoy were reacting as if anything was amiss but _certainly_  the ankle deep mist that was surging towards Narcissa was not part of the normal decor of their attic.  For a moment he wondered if they had set a trap for him but as he whipped out his wand, he tossed that thought away for the mist wasn't heading towards him. And as he stared, shocked, it surged forward with the nearest part warping into what looked like ghostly hands...

 

" _NARCISSA, STOP!_ " he bellowed.  The tone and use of her first name stopped her dead in her tracks, head whipping back toward him in shock.  But he ignored her look or Draco's sudden cursing at his back as he lunged forward.

 

With her no longer moving, the fog had paused for a moment as if in confusion.  Unsure if it had stopped completely or was simply waiting, Harry wrapped a hand around Narcissa's wrist and yanked her backwards, stepping in front of her despite the cramped conditions of the stairway.  The mist broiled forward at the movement but it ran straight into his enhanced shield spell, forcing it back.

 

But it pressed and lapped against it, causing him to worry that it just might not hold for very long. And while it appeared to only be mist, he felt an intense discomfort settle over him.

 

"Draco," Harry said quietly and calmly, slowly pushing Draco's mother down the stairs towards her son.  "I need you both to - slowly, if you please - back down the stairs to the landing."

 

As Draco was about to speak, Narcissa interrupted.  "I believe we should follow Mr. Potter's advice," she said, voice as quiet as Harry's.  A brief tremor at the start of her sentence had faded by the time she finished.

 

He felt the warmth of two bodies back away and watched as the further the two Malfoy's were, the less riled the mist was.  "Mrs. Malfoy, when you were about to step into the attic, did you see any mist?"

 

"No.  As far as I could tell, there was nothing in the room beyond.  Your reaction was the only thing that seemed amiss to me."

 

"Ah."

 

It was still there when they were on landing but it had quieted down considerably.  Still, he was less than enthused about the idea of entering the attic unprepared.  But even after a few cursory examination spells, he was still left without the knowledge of what the spell was exactly.  Though he thought he had the beginning of a theory.

 

Cautiously, he turned so that his back was to the wall so that he could speak more clearly with the two peering up at him from below and keep an eye on the mist.  "I know how hard this is going to be for you, Draco, but I need you to summon Miss Greengrass."  Instantly, the young man's face clouded and he opened his mouth to protest but Harry held up a hand.  "I know, I _know._   But I can promise you that she won't be hurt - she'll be behind me the entire time and will come up no further than the stair below me.  And you'll be close enough to get her out of the way if something were to go wrong."

 

He grinned crookedly.  "After all, if this mist goes after her, it would have to go through me first."

 

The stubborn look had faded only a little from Draco's face before a voice from the side, where Harry couldn't see, spoke up.  "Oh do stop, Draco, you know very well that neither you, Mr. Potter nor your mother would ever allow any harm to befall me, especially here of all places."

 

A slim form came into view and Harry found himself gazing down at Astoria.  He only vaguely remembered her from Hogwarts but she looked similar enough to her sister that he could place her even if he hadn't already known she had been in the house.  Slim, blond and delicate looking but her eyes had the same kind of steel that Narcissa's did.  Oh yes, he could see why she had caught Draco's fancy...

 

Harry smiled at her and she returned the favor, gathering her robes in one hand as she carefully came up the stairs.  She stopped when he told her to and peered over his shoulder, eyes widening just a tad.

 

"You can see it too, can't you?" he asked quietly, not needing to see her nod to know the answer.  Her presence hadn't even caused the mist to shift, let alone surge forward.  She had yet to marry into the bloodline and Harry was convinced that whatever trap was in the attic was specifically for the family members.

 

Astoria descended the stairs and immediately moved to Draco's side when Harry nodded that she should go and he followed momentarily after her.  A quick glance at his pocket watch told him that it was now one in the morning.  At least the adrenaline rush had cleared him of his headache for the moment...

 

Narcissa took in the small group and then nodded to herself.  "I'll get someone to bring us a pot of tea downstairs, shall I?" she asked and then turned and headed down the hall.

 

Harry blinked.

 

"Right after the war ended, I was given so much bloody Earl Grey that I almost drowned," Draco drawled, linking his arm through Astoria's.  "Never mind her, Harry, it's what Mother does.  What was that and what are you going to do about it and my Father?"

 

Shaking his head, he turned back to the couple and frowned.  Lucius was a problem but that spell was only the tip of the iceberg.  He had absolutely no idea about what to do with that fog upstairs in the attic.  He needed more extensive research.  He needed answers.  He needed...

  
Harry smiled.  "I need to borrow a floo.  There’s someone who’d be very interested in what’s going on."


	2. In which Hermione is summoned and finds an unlikely admirer

A five hour time difference and an ocean separated Hermione Granger from the goings on in general in the British Wizarding world and one Harry Potter in particular.  While he faced Malfoys and mist magic, she actually had just finished having a lovely dinner with Neville Longbottom and they had retired to their separate hotel rooms for the evening after a long but successful day.

 

After the war, Hermione had found herself at a bit of a loss.  Having sat for, and aced, her N.E.W.T.S., she'd had more than a dozen job offerings awaiting her exit from the exams.  Being herself, she'd sat down with each one and had drawn up numerous amounts of diagrams, charts and the like to weigh each offer.  What she'd discovered after all of that was the very idea of being tied down to one job simply reduced her to opening a bottle of red wine and breaking into the emergency chocolates stashed in the file drawer of her home office.

 

(Right after she'd broken up with Ron they'd been filed under 'P' for prat but after they'd patched up their friendship, she'd moved them to 'O' for overworked.)

 

Seven years of being on her toes, ready for the unknown had done more than just honed her fighting and survival skills.  She suddenly had no desire to be trapped in any one particular job, even with the option to leave was always there.

 

When that particular dilemma had come up, Hermione had taken another bottle of wine and chocolates over to Minerva.  The newest Headmistress of Hogwarts had been quite helpful, especially after a glass or three of the excellent Pinot Noir Hermione had shared with her.  So it was her idea that Hermione would eventually come to adopt...

 

Consultant to the wizards.  (Which still drove Hermione to horrendous giggles whenever she thought of a slightly drunk Minerva spouting that out while waving her wine glass to and fro in glee.)

 

At first, the majority of her work had come from the staff at Hogwarts, especially from Minerva, Filius and Irma, amongst a number of her other former Professors.  Hermione worked on projects that they had never had the time, resources or the chance to start on.  As those individuals had taught her and had recognized her potential in her very first year with them, none of the projects were the kind she had been afraid of getting.  Shelving books, dusting racks and the like had never once crossed her desk and she'd found herself with a plate full of things to do that were intriguing, challenging and constantly changing.

 

It hadn't taken long for word to spread that Hermione was being used by Hogwarts (whose reputation might have taken a bit of a hit during the war but certainly had come out stronger afterwards) on a consultant basis.  First, people close to her were flooing her with work (Bill with Gringotts and Fleur with a request from Beauxbatons; George and Ron had needed help with an issue from WWW; Harry had needed a hand when the Aurors had their hands full trying to track down remaining dark wizards) but then gradually more and more work came from outside her, admittedly, fairly widespread circle of contacts.

 

It had been an intensely gratifying eleven years and there was very little Hermione had come to regret in regards to her work life.

 

Now, right before Hogwarts was set to reopen for the upcoming school year, she and Neville were wrapping up a trip to the Salem Witches Institute in the States.  Neville had approached her two months prior with a project he had been pursuing during the summer.  And while her speciality had never been the property of what dirt to use for what plant to grow, it hadn't taken her long to come up with a number of sources to use in Neville's research.  No longer at a dead end for cross examination, he had invited her to come along while he had spoken to the head of Herbology in the American school.  Having never visited the States, she'd readily accepted.  She’d packed up a few bags, Crookshanks and had put some of her smaller projects on hold for the duration.

 

Being one's own boss certainly had advantages that outweighed the disadvantages. 

 

They were due to return home the next day and Hermione, having taken a bath to rid herself of the rest of the dirt in her hair and under her nails, had settled in quite pleasantly in her en-suite.  The summer had been quite busy and she had scheduled her upcoming projects so that she would have a week to herself when she returned home.  There were normal, everyday things to take care of that had been neglected and a few days off certainly wouldn't kill her, either.

 

So she lounged on the couch in the little sitting room with Crookshanks kneading her belly and purring heavily while she pretended to read her book while, really, she just lightly dozed. And perhaps allowed her thoughts to drift towards a particular wizard she was hoping to have dinner with upon her return...

 

It was understandable, then, why Harry's head in her fireplace gave her such a start.  Never the quietest man, his sharp "Hermione!" caused her to drop her book and dislodge poor Crookshanks so unexpectedly.  Rubbing at her stomach where the half cat, half kneazle's claws had dug in for purchase, she hurried over to the now green fire.

 

Shoving her head in, she glared at her long time friend.  "Did you really have to shout so?  Really, Harry, I'm less than five feet away from the fireplace!"

 

The fire distorted his face somewhat but couldn't hide the sheepish expression.  "Sorry, got a bit carried away."

 

"I'll say!  What's the matter?  It's, what, 1:30 back home?"  Fear clutched at her heart.  "It's not Ron, is it?  Or Ginny?  Or - or - Merlin's balls, we know too many people!"

 

"No, no, no one's hurt.  Not that we know of, anyway."  When her glare returned in force, Harry hastened to explain about Lucius' disappearance, Draco's request and the mysterious attacking fog in the attic.  "I don't want to bring anyone else in on this yet, Hermione.  I trust them with my life but most of them are either predisposed to doubt the Malfoy's or..."

 

"Aren't used to bending the rules?" she guessed and matched Harry grin for grin. Hermione could have listed the number of rules Harry was ‘bending’ at the moment but was aware her friend knew all of them.

 

"Exactly.  I know you're working with Neville but could I steal you away for this?"

 

Hermione waved a hand.  "We're done, actually, returning home tomorrow.  Or, well - that mist thing is a bit worrying, Harry.  Would you rather I pop over now?"

 

"Merlin, yes.  Hang on-"  His head disappeared for a moment and then returned.  "Draco's going to change the settings on the floo to allow you to come right into the sitting room."  He paused and lowered his voice.  "You going to be okay coming over here again?"

 

She wanted to hug him and hit him all at once.  Ever the protective brother figure.  Hermione settled for giving him a fond look.  "I think I can calm my terrors for an evening," she said, half in jest and half serious.  "I'll be over as soon as I can, Harry.  I won't leave without telling Neville  _ something _  and I need to pack and arrange for my things and Crooks to go to my flat."

 

They chatted for a few more minutes before breaking the connection and Hermione sighed as she sat back on her heels.

 

"So much for my mini-holiday, Crookshanks," she sighed, looking over at where he was perched where she'd been laying.  He tilted his head at her as if to say "You don't regret it for a minute".  "Of course I don't - it's Harry, after all."

 

Any sleepiness that had been sneaking up on her had drained away and so she hopped to her feet and hurried over to the door that connected her room to Neville's.  One knock, however, was all it took before he swung it open, looking as sheepish as Harry had.

 

"I caught part of that," he admitted, leaning against the doorjamb on his side while she leaned against her own side.  "Harry's a bit, erm..."

 

"Loud?"

 

"A tad.  Something come up?  Everyone okay?"  He had jumped to the same worry that Hermione had once he realized what time it was back home.

 

Hermione smiled.  He was so different and yet not at all from the timid boy she'd met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago.  He was in many ways the same caring person he'd been back then but it been tempered through the war and that last year at Hogwarts, showing the world the strength of character that ran through him; she was still proud to call him one of her nearest and dearest friends.  Hannah was one lucky, lucky woman.

 

"Can't give you all the details now, Neville, but I promise I will if I can.  I have to go back across the pond tonight - can you take care of getting my luggage and Crooks home for me?"

 

Neville looked over top of Hermione's head and eyed the cat, who eyed him right back.  Crookshanks sniffed and curled up to go back to sleep.  "If he doesn't mind, then I don't," Neville said quite seriously.  Crookshanks had quite the reputation and it was well deserved.

 

Hermione leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek and, true to form, Neville blushed and ducked his head.  "You're a lifesaver.  I'll have everything packed and ready for you in the morning," she said, her voice becoming crisp and business like.  "I'll also owl you the bill for the consult, with a dis-"

 

"No discount!"

 

"Discount, that I give to all of my old friends so suck it up.  You'll also get you copies of all of my notes and research in case you need it."

 

"And you say that I'm a lifesaver."

 

She beamed at him.  "You are, Nev, you really are."

 

***

 

An hour later, Hermione was stepping out of the Malfoy's sitting room fireplace and paused to brush off invisible specks of ash.  The room was a small and intimate one, one probably often used by the family themselves when either alone or with one or two close friends.  More importantly, it was clearly not the room that still featured from time to time in her nightmares.

 

They had obviously been waiting for her and she smiled at Harry as he jumped out of his seat and fairly ran over to give her a hug.  She returned it with enthusiasm and bit her lip at his whispered "Save me from the  _ tea _ !" to stop from snickering out loud.

 

When he released her, she took a step back to get a good look at him; Hermione frowned at the way his brow furrowed and his eyes appeared slightly wild.  When she started to ask him about his headaches, he just shook his head and she realized now would probably not be the best time.

 

Not as Narcissa, Draco and someone who had to be Astoria stood up behind him; times had changed but it was never wise to reveal a weakness to one Malfoy, let alone two and one potential one.

 

Hermione stepped forward to clasp first Narcissa's hand - who surprised her by murmuring "Mistress Granger", a title that normally would only be awarded to someone high enough in their particular field, so either Narcissa was playing games to get on Hermione's good side or she actually meant it.  She glanced at Draco and he quirked a half-smile at her before, another surprise, offering his hand to her as well.

 

As she was recovering from the Malfoy's response to her, Draco turned to the woman at his side.  "Hermione Granger, allow me to introduce my fiance, Astoria Greengrass.  Astoria, this is Hermione."

 

The woman was younger than Hermione's late twenties and something about the way she moved reminded her a bit of Luna Lovegood.  The resemblance ended with the steel grip wrapped in velvet that was the handshake Hermione was on the receiving end of.  And there was a haunting sort of intelligence in those baby blue eyes that made Hermione both intrigued and wary.

 

"Mistress Granger!  It's a pleasure meeting you, even under these circumstances.  I've heard so much about you!"

 

"You have?"  It came out of both Draco and Hermione at the same time and the two former childhood enemies paused to make faces at each other.

 

"Of course I have!  I might not have been in your year but it was hard to get away from your exploits at Hogwarts or during the war!"  Astoria's smile grew a little bit.  "I never quite achieved it but I certainly tried to beat your record in the classroom."

 

Hermione blinked, a bit taken aback.  Astoria could have simply been showing a predisposition to being an excellent hostess but there was enough sincerity there to make Hermione smile slowly back.  After all, Draco certainly had been bright enough during their Hogwart days - that he migrated to someone with brains and the ability to think on her own after having tired of stooges didn't surprise her.

 

She found herself saying, "After this is all over, maybe we can talk about that."  She didn't miss the brief look on either Draco or Narcissa's faces but since she couldn't decipher what they meant, focused instead on the bright smile that crossed Astoria's.

 

"Yes, I would like that very much indeed!"

 

From behind her, Harry cleared his throat and gave her an amused look when Hermione turned back towards him.  "Hermione, you've got a few more hours on us poor, tired folks, so..."

 

Instantly, she flushed.  "Oh, I'm sorry!  The time difference, I forgot!  Show me this attic and I'll see what I can do."

 

That brought Narcissa to the front.  "Of course.  We'll accompany you to the landing in front of the attic but you and Mr. Potter will, of course, have free reign of the room without our interference.  At least until you are able to deactivate the spell residing in my own home."

 

Hermione tilted her head slightly and then nodded; there was a cold fury lurking under those perfectly formed words.  And from what she knew of the other woman's actions in the past knew that while some of it was for herself, most of it was formed from indignation of an attack on her family, in her own home.  After her husband's disappearance.  Hermione had no illusions that this woman, with her trappings of gentility, would tear the world apart to protect those that were hers.

 

After all, she had once lied to Voldemort for the  _ chance _  at saving her son.

 

"Of course," she said.  "We'll try our best to get this out of your house and to find your husband."

 

Narcissa's eyes narrowed a little bit as she took in Hermione; the younger woman wondered if she were weighing the girl she had seen at one point, held captive and tortured by Bellatrix in her own house, versus the accomplished and well-respected consultant that was rumored to have helped the Minister of Magic out of a tight bind or two.

 

Obviously, she wasn't found wanting as Narcissa nodded once and swept out of the room.

 

"I feel as if I just passed my N.E.W.T.S all over again," Hermione murmured.

  
Astoria patted her arm.  "Don't worry, she does that to everyone."


	3. In which Draco is surprisingly useful and Hermione starts to feel the time difference

As dawn broke over Malfoy Manor, Hermione and Harry found themselves collapsing on the bottom most step that led into the attic.  She leaned her head on his shoulder as they struggled to regulate their breathing.  Despite the cooler temperatures of the upper parts of the house, they were both soaked in sweat and shaking with fatigue.

 

Despite the late, or perhaps early, hour, the only person who had shown any sense at all and had gone to bed hours before had been Astoria.  Draco and his mother had generally stayed on the lower levels of the house except when they had been summoned by the duo to help with testings or to bring up much needed refreshments.  Though they could have eventually gone to bed as well, they both had elected to stay up until Hermione and Harry had completed the task at hand.

 

'Or,' Hermione thought as she struggled to contain another yawn, 'until we passed out from sheer exhaustion and they would be forced to perform a levitation spell on our unconscious bodies.'

 

The buffer of a time difference hadn't lasted very long for her and she had soon been as exhausted as Harry.  International portkey travel actually made the time difference rather moot - from the States to Cape Code to London, she had then caught a floo from their offices there to the Malfoy's sitting room - and the day had started for her nearly 24 hours ago as well.  While not as intense as Harry's or their hosts, she and Neville had been quite active at the American wizarding school.

 

But at least the long hours of studying and testing the spell laying in wait upstairs hadn't been in vain.

 

"It's a complicated curse," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence.  Hermione didn't even bother to lift her head but just nodded into his shoulder in agreement.  "And it clearly originated from the cane itself. How or why or what..."

 

The pair had ventured into the room only a brief way but far enough to conclude that the spells nexus centered on the dropped cane.  It was a layered spell that combined at least four different spells together to form the larger one.  It was going to take a pronged, but fast, approach if they wanted to break the curse.

 

There obviously had to be a reason that the spell had been activated and if they wanted to find evidence of how Lucius had managed to leave and where he might have gone off to, not to mention if there was the chance of spell eventually spreading, they were going to have to do it that night.

 

Or morning. Or ... whatever.

 

Soft footsteps alerted them to someone's approach.  They straightened as Draco appeared on landing.  He looked as tired as they felt; despite not working as Harry and Hermione had been, his day had been even more stressful than theirs.  In his hands, he carried two small vials which he held out to them as he approached.

 

"With you two up here making enough noise to wake the dead," Draco said, stopping in front of them, "I took the liberty of making an Invigoration Draught.  Mother refused some as I believe the minute you leave, she will be retiring for an entire day.  And feel free to run whatever tests you wish - you won't find anything but the potion, I promise.  After all, we need you in top form if we're going to find Father."

 

Before Hermione could take Draco up on his offer of testing, Harry dislodged her from his shoulder by leaning forward to take the proffered drink.  As he tipped it back, she shared a look with Draco and they both rolled their eyes as he handed her the second potion.  Just because it was highly unlikely that something had been slipped into the Invigoration Draught didn't mean that whatever caution they had left should just be tossed out the window.

 

Hermione murmured a quick, wordless spell as she held hers and when it didn't turn any funny colors to indicate that something was wrong with it, she drank it with relief.

 

Almost immediately, the growing exhaustion vanished and it took along with it the plodding thoughts that had started to plague her as the evening had worn on.  Even the aches and pains from working in the hothouse that past week faded into the background.  Hermione straightened with a happy sigh, stretching her limbs one by one.

 

The potion would only last for about two hours or so but it would be enough to allow them to do what they needed to do.

 

"Fantastic timing," Harry acknowledged as he stood up with Hermione following suit soon after.

 

"Found a break through, have you?" Draco asked, almost but not quite managing to hide the excitement in his voice.

 

For the first time since she'd been summoned, Hermione suddenly felt  _ sorry _  for Draco.  She'd been looking at the situation from an entirely academic view, if an urgent one.  The spell in the attic had intrigued her, as had Lucius' disappearance and she had yet to think of what Draco and Narcissa must be going through.  Over twenty-four hours had passed since Lucius had left his wife's bed and, as yet, there had been no word...

 

"We think we have," Hermione responded, forcing those thoughts to the back of her mind.  They wouldn't help nor would Draco appreciate the sentiment behind them.  "It's a complicated spell but the essential part of it lies either within the actual cane or immediately surrounding the area.  The harmful part of the spell has, we believe, already been activated in the form of the mist."  Hermione was fairly positive that had it actually gotten a hold of any within the Malfoy line it would have promptly torn them asunder.

 

"And while the mist is currently only reacting to either you or your mother's presence," Harry picked up, "there's a really good chance that once we mess with the cane, we'll become targets as well."

 

Even if that ended up not being the case, they had to act as if it were the case.  They hadn't survived the war just to be torn apart by ankle deep mist, after all.

 

Draco looked from Harry, to Hermione and then to the door at the top of the stairs.  "I'm assuming you've got a plan, then, Granger?"  he asked.  "Because Merlin knows Potter probably doesn't."

 

She hid a quick smile as Harry blustered at Draco for a moment.  " _ We _  do happen to have a plan," Hermione demurred after a moment before grinning so brightly at Draco that he took a step back.  "Care to try it out?"

 

***

 

"Granger, if I die during this bloody stupid plan of yours, I hope you know that you'll be responsible for marrying Astoria and taking care of her."

 

"That doesn't make any sense!  Why would I have to marry your fiancé?"

 

"Because if I'm dead, than you'll be responsible and I doubt Potter's wife would appreciate a second woman being added to the mix."

 

From next to her, Harry murmured, "That does make some - ow!"

 

As he rubbed his ribs, Hermione reached behind her and gently pushed Draco on the shoulder.  "Stop being such a big girl's blouse," she chided.  "You'll be behind us the entire time, so anything that would kill you would kill me first."

 

His eyes narrowed sharply at the touch but he didn't comment as he tightened his grip on his wand and then nodded.  "After you, then,  _ Mistress _  Granger."

 

"Smart arse," she muttered under her breath as she and Harry steadied themselves on the topmost stair.

 

As all three prepared their wands, the tension noticeably increased and, despite the draught she had just taken, Hermione felt a wash of exhaustion crest over her before the potion pushed it away again.  Not only would they have to work carefully but they were going to have to work quickly and together almost seamlessly. For Harry and Hermione, that wouldn't be a problem and if the third member of the trio had been Ron or even another member of the Order or Dumbledore's Army...

 

No matter how weird or awkward it was, they were going to have to put their trust in Draco just as he was putting his trust in them.

 

Hermione squared her shoulders and raised her wand to an offensive position.  "On my mark, we cast.   _ One ... two ... three ... NOW! _ "

 

From behind her, Draco's voice rose in a strong, crisp command of " _ Accio _  Father's cane!"

 

Despite how large the attic was, pulled by Draco's magic the cane crossed the length of the darkened room at nearly three times the speed that the wizards would have been able to cross in.  Hermione had been ready for it but hadn't factored in the depth of emotion he would put behind his magic; her hastily cast  _ Immobulus _  caused the cane to stop much closer than she'd originally intended.

 

Whether due to Draco's presence and interference or just by the moving of the cane itself, the fog instantly reacted to the sudden loss of its nexus.  It came alive in thick, gray clumps that roiled like something out of a cliched Muggles idea of a witches brew. The reaction was something they'd anticipated but what they hadn't expected was the sudden stench that washed over them as nearly the entirety of the thing rolled toward them.  It smelled like decay, like a grave had just spat out long held contents, and it was obviously there to throw them off their game as they tried not to gag.

 

Luckily, Harry was long used to working under much worse conditions and he managed to both get a shield up in time and to throw an  _ Aguamenti _  spell towards the moving mass.  The spout of water broke the mist, stopping the momentum for the moment.

 

But it was already reforming slowly and parts were already reaching towards them once more.

 

"Hermione," Harry warned before he threw another spell into the mess in front of them.

 

"I know!" she snapped, wand currently swirling and moving in increasingly complicated patterns.  Four spells might have intertwined with each other to form the overarching one but in the grand scheme of things only one of them actually mattered.  They still weren't sure what exactly it was but Hermione recognized a curse when she saw one - all she had to do was neutralize it long enough to get it over to Bill...

 

It was strong and fast where they were tired and slowing down; Hermione suddenly staggered as the magic wrapping around the cane suddenly  _ pushed _  against her, her left foot slipping off the top step even as she redoubled her efforts and used her magic to shove back against it.

 

The curse buckled slightly under the pressure of Hermione's magic but she floundered just enough, splitting her concentration in two as her free hand darted out to try and stop her fall.  Her fingertips grazed the wooden banister but slipped free as the magic she battled against pressed forward once more.

 

Something abruptly hit her in the middle and small of her back, stopping her fall with a suddenness that forced the air from her lungs.  From behind her, Draco had grunted out a spell that stabilized her long enough to allow her to refocus everything on containing the heart of that spell within the cane.  For a moment she was caught between two immovable objects - the harmful curse as it attempted to shove her down the stairs and Draco's magic as it attempted to keep her from falling.  The pressure was great enough to bring tears to her eyes and it almost stole away her ability to speak but she somehow summoned some last dint of power from her reserve and shouted out the last of the spell with a sharp word and swish from her wand.

 

Hermione staggered forward when the pressure from her front abruptly disappeared, knees hitting the floor in front of her before Harry could catch her arm.  The cane clattered noisily in front of her but she paid it nor the vanishing fog any particular attention.  Draco had hastily dispelled the magic keeping her up so for a moment, she enjoyed the relative calm surrounding them as she struggled to refocus her thoughts.

 

"I'm going to get this ready to send to Bill and bind any other lingering spells down," she heard Harry say as he paused to brush his fingers across her shoulder.  "He owes me a favor or two that I'm calling in so word of this won't spread."

 

With a groan, Hermione slowly pushed herself up off the floor only to lean against the wall.  The resources she'd had to tap into to finish that had ensured that the draught would wear off sooner rather than later - the idea of a bed sounded like a bloody fantastic idea.

 

"I think I'll wait to enter the attic until the cane's gone," Draco commented as he, hungry as he was for any detail for his father, eyed the attic with a wary enthusiasm.

 

Hermione nodded.  "Harry -"  She waved a hand to cover where he was crouched over the cane, murmuring and waving his wand back and forth.  He would be essentially turning something into a portkey attuned to Bill's private chambers so they could promptly get rid of the cursed cane. Once, of course, he locked down any remaining active spells.  "- will see to that.  And I know that you want to scour the attic for clues towards your father's disappearance but considering what we’ve just removed, your best bet is for us to give you the full all clear. No matter how long that takes."

 

Draco looked like he wanted to argue but he surprised her when he simply nodded curtly.  "I suppose you’re right," he sighed, rubbing his forehead as if to chase off a headache. “I’ll go and alert Mother while you and Potter conduct the first search, though you’d best prepare yourself for another bracing round of Earl Grey…”

 

As he disappeared from view, Hermione watched as Harry worked away, following his actions with a tired gaze until the cane vanished from view with a soft ‘pop’.

 

Harry slowly gained his feet again to come stand next to her and he shoved his glasses back up his nose as he gazed down the stairwell.  "Right, let's give this our best shot before they come back. I want to make sure this attic’s clear before that. Also, I’d really prefer to avoid death by tea if we can help it."

 

***

 

The morning was shaping to be a mild summer day as Harry and Hermione reached the outer limits of the Anti-Apparition wards the Ministry had placed upon the grounds as part of Lucius' house arrest.  The wind held no promise of the fall just around the corner and Hermione took a minute to enjoy the brightening sunshine before the sun fell behind a fast moving cloud.

 

They had only just wrapped up a thorough search of the attic and, outside of announcing it thankfully clear of curses, and found nothing that led them to the discovery of what happened to Lucius Malfoy. It was reluctantly that Harry and Hermione took their leave but only after Draco had both offered and demanded that they return later that night for a ‘dinner’. Both as thanks for their work and so they could continue slightly refreshed.

 

"You look a right mess," Harry said from her side and she frowned at him.  "What?  So do I!"

 

"Well, I suppose that's true enough," she allowed, reaching down to squeeze his hand.  "How's the headache?"

 

He shook his head ruefully.  "Still there.  Swear they've been worse lately.  Dunno if it's the weather or the stress but it's nearly been daily.  And before you ask, I've been seen at St. Mungo's more than Ginny has lately."  He shrugged but didn't let go of her hand.  "Speaking of my ever loving wife, she'd kill me if I let you go home alone in this condition.  I can Side-Along Apparate you to the house if you want?"

 

She opened her mouth to protest but the words died on her tongue as she remembered that Neville, along with her luggage and her cat, would probably still be back in Salem.  The flat would have been completely shut up for the last week and with no Crookshanks to welcome her home the idea of going home alone killed her protest.

 

Hermione tightened her grip on his hand.  "Well, I have wanted to see how big Ginny's gotten," she mused, knowing Harry would know why she was going home with him but, being Harry, wouldn't say anything.

 

He grinned at her.  "She's huge!  She knocked an entire tea set over the other day!"

 

"Did you laugh?"

 

"Only until she hexed me."

  
The sound of Hermione's exhausted laughter ended with the pop of Disapparation.


	4. A Very Weasley Morning

Over the decades, Molly Weasley's voice had managed to perfect itself into the kind of voice that drill sergeants lusted after.  One well-spoken sentence - one  _ word _  - from her would cause almost exactly the reaction from her children, and others, that she desired.  It was how she had managed to keep the Burrow from falling down around her ears during the years where all the children had been at home; how she had been the one to keep the meetings of the Order running on anything resembling on-time; even, or especially, how she had survived the war with most of her family intact.

 

It was why Ron was already up and into his trousers before he realized that he had no idea what his mum actually wanted or why she was waking him up at an hour that he'd tried his best to avoid for most of his life.  He paused as her face faded from the fireplace but knew it would be a wasted effort in going back to bed.  After all, she had the ability to pass through his wards and drag him out of bed by his ear if he didn't show up within the next twenty minutes.

 

Grumbling under his breath, he leaned down to kiss Lavender, his wife of three years, though she hadn't even had the decency of stirring during the entire thing.  The woman had the damnedest habit of sleeping through  _ everything _  , up to and including Molly's missives.

 

He didn't bother with a shower.  A shirt and socks that looked vaguely clean, a quick  _ Scourgify _  and he was stepping through the floo from his flat to his family home in under ten minutes.  Shaking the worst of the fireplace grime off of him, he felt his mouth start to drool as the smells from the kitchen hit him almost as hard as an actual punch.

 

"Mum?" he called out, following his nose.  When he stuck his head in the door, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at what he found.

 

Despite the early hour, his mother had obviously been hard at work for quite some time.  She stood in front of a large picnic basket and watched as several objects floated themselves neatly inside.  Molly turned and beamed when she spotted him, opening her arms as she hurried over, ducking her head to avoid being hit with a still warm looking plate of bacon.

 

"Ronald!  There you are! How I’ve missed you!" she exclaimed as she gathered him up.

 

Ron hugged her back good naturedly, rolling his eyes only a little bit.  "You act as if Lav and I weren't over last weekend!" he teased as he pulled back.  He knew that she missed having a house full of children and felt that the place was simply too big for two people.

 

Molly waved a hand in dismissal.  "It never seems like enough! You and Lavender are always so busy," she sighed, giving him the once over before nodding in approval.  Lavender had won over the matriarch by showing an affinity in the kitchen - the only way, Ron secretly thought, that his mum had finally put away her regrets that he and Hermione simply hadn't worked out.

 

"You said you needed something?" he asked, struggling to keep the slight whine from his voice.  He really could have done with a quiet morning, especially after being out last night with the lads from the shop.

 

"Ginny flooed this morning," Molly responded, bustling back over to the basket.  "Seems that poor Harry and Hermione were out until just a few hours this morning doing Merlin only knows what!  Either she can't tell me or they couldn't tell her -"  A disgruntled note crept into her voice.  "- but they passed out quick enough.  She's exhausted as it is so wanted a hand with breakfast.  I'd take it over there myself but Bill and Fleur are bringing the children by for the weekend and your father had to go into the office this morning."

 

When the basket was full, a  _ Reducio _  turned it from being unwieldy to almost pocket size.

 

"Did you make enough to feed the entire Order?" Ron asked as he picked up the spelled basket.  He squashed the momentary flare that he was being left out.  After all, he had been the one to leave the Auror's for working with George in the shop; that sort of life simply wasn't his any longer.  And for the most part, he didn't regret the 'quiet' life (one could only get so quiet when working in WWW) one bit. But when it came to Harry and Hermione, now that was a different thing altogether.  It felt strange not to be involved in the things they got mixed up with on occasion.

 

Molly was saying something and Ron had to ask her to repeat it.  "I said that there's enough for for all four of you-"  Ron perked up considerably.  "-plus leftovers for Ginny for a day or two.  I remember how hard it was keeping up with cooking and housework when I was carrying all of you, after all!"

 

Right, he had to leave before she started to wax on about family history or, worse, start in on him about when he was going to be giving her more grandchildren.  He loved his mum, he did, but he simply could not take one of those conversations before a strong cup of tea and a hearty breakfast.  Hastily, he kissed her on the cheek and promised to bring Lavender by in the next week or so when their schedules allowed before beating a hasty retreat.

 

***

 

The soft sound of Ginny's voice and louder, familiar voice of Ron cut through the last of the grip that sleep had on Hermione.  She was awake almost instantly, a habit she'd had since they'd been running around in the woods looking for Horcruxes, in the spare bedroom.  Though she'd been so tired that even sleeping on Harry and Ginny's floor would have been enough.

 

Rubbing at her eyes, she pushed herself out of bed and staggered down the hall, not even attempting to pat her hair down.  They had all seen her at her worst and this certainly didn't even make the top ten list.

 

She padded down the hall and ignored the ever growing number of magical pictures on the walls that were waving at her as she stumbled towards voices and the smell of food.  Her stomach grumbled sharply in protest of not having eaten since - Hermione took a look at the clock on the wall and swore.  Was it seriously after noon already?

 

"Afternoon!" Ginny called as Hermione shuffled into the kitchen.  She went to get up but Hermione quickly went to her before the clearly pregnant woman could stand.  They were able to give each other a quick hug once Hermione crouched a little bit, eyeballing Ginny's stomach.

 

"You look amazing," she commented, accepting a quick kiss on the cheek from Ron as she sat down in-between the siblings.

 

"I look  _ fat _  but happy," came the correction as Ginny placed a heaping plate in front of Hermione.  "Eat up.  Mum sent food and her regards."

 

And it looked like Molly had outdone herself once again.  Hermione took one look at the table, which surely had to be groaning under the weight of all the food, and simply just accepted it.  After all, Molly had been the reason that she hadn't starved during her first year of actually working.  Cooking had not been one of those things that had come easily to her and she had been more than willing to accept some of Molly's mothering in lieu of take out every night.

 

Ron bumped her shoulder and she grinned at him even as she nudged him back.  "You look wretched," she laughed.  "Did Molly rope you into playing delivery boy?"

 

"Oi, you'd think she'd know better than to wake me up that bloody early on a Saturday!" Ron grumbled, waving a forkful of eggs around before shoving them in his mouth.

 

"I have not one drop of sympathy for you," Hermione responded dryly, Summoning over a glass of juice before Ginny had to stand for it.  She glanced around the room and, when she didn't spot any sign of Harry, looked at his wife.

 

Ginny shook her head and frowned.  "No, he woke up 'bout an hour ago but his head was killing him.  I gave him something to help him sleep, so he won't get up for a few hours or so."

 

"Thought they were getting better, Gin?" Ron asked, food momentarily forgotten as he leaned forward to peer at his sister.

 

"They  _ were _ !"  She threw up her hands.  "St. Mungo's even had a new medicine for him that was working pretty well until just a few weeks ago.  And then, suddenly, worse than ever."

 

"He has been working really hard," Hermione commented.

 

Ron nodded.  "Barely seen him for drinks in the past week.  Not like Harry to miss one of our nights out.  Probably just running himself into the ground.  Like always."  He grinned.  "Unlike me, where I've got no issue sleepin' in until the shop opens up."

 

Ginny snorted and threw a muffin at him.  "As if you needed to tell either of us that.  And save some of that for Harry!  You look like you've gained a stone already!"

 

" _ I _  look like I've -"

 

With hard won practice, Hermione tuned out the good-natured, if pointed, bickering as she tucked into her breakfast.  She had always been a hardy eater and had especially learned to appreciate a good plate of food after the war had finally finished.  She'd lost quite a bit of weight during what should have been their Seventh year and Molly had made it a personal mission to make sure that Hermione ate properly, even when she went back to Hogwarts.

 

As she ate, she made a list of the things she would have to do that day.  Hours had already been lost as she slept and the number of vital items on her list outnumbered the non-vital ones considerably.  The very first thing would have to be going back to her flat for a shower and change of clothes.  She felt grimy enough and knew it would distract her from the rest of the day if she tried to do anything before hand.

 

Hermione ducked another thrown muffin as she mentally tried to piece together what she should do first.

 

  1. Shower - possibly do laundry.  Are there clean knickers at the flat? There are not!
  2. Bill Weasley - visit or floo?
  3. Research
  4. Dinner with the _Malfoy_ ' _s_?  Search for Malfoy, Lucius.  _URGENT_
  5. Research!!!



 

Reaching up, she caught yet another thrown pastry before it could hit her instead of Ron.  As the other two watched her warily, her fingers carefully dug into the crumbling muffin so she could rip it in two.  Ron was already up and moving as Ginny shielded her head, yelping "Pregnant lady abuse!" as Hermione lobbed the food in their directions.

 

***

 

After having breakfast with Ron and Ginny, Hermione's flat was blissfully quiet.  She kicked the door closed behind her and sighed as she headed towards her bedroom, dropping her robes on a nearby chair.  She was far too tired to care about the proper handling and care of her robes; especially since they were well on their way to the launderette already.

 

A second later and her arms were full of a purring Crookshanks who, thankfully, didn't look all that put out after her sudden departure from the previous night.  "Did you give Neville any trouble?" she asked, hugging the now almost boneless cat to her chest.  He gave her such an indignant look that she had to laugh.  "Sorry, sorry!  Come on, Crooks - I'll let you play with the bathwater while I freshen up and then I'll pull out your treats..."

 

He mrred at her and wiggled out of her arms so he could trot ahead of her as she started to shed her wrinkled clothes.

 

An hour later and she emerged from the bath vaguely red from the scrubbing and feeling a million times better.  It was simply bliss to feel even remotely more human.  Crooks was a little damp himself but apparently hadn't been too fussed by it as he zoomed into the next room in search of the treats she kept hidden from his clever paws.  The robe she pulled around her had been a gift for Luna a few years ago - her friend might be a bit different but she had fantastic taste when it came to silk.

 

The flat she had purchased nearly three years ago was large by London Muggle standards, a fact that she played off for any non-Wizarding friends by simply saying she'd made enough to buy several flats and convert it.  Technically it was true as far as those things went; Hermione hadn't been about to tell them she'd magically enlarged the place on her own in a matter of less than a week.  Arthur had been quite helpful with the spells to put in place and make sure the walls wouldn't fall down, though she had certainly added more stabilization spells to the structure.  Just to be on the safe side.

 

It held the normal rooms of a living room, decent but on the small sized kitchen complete with enough space for a kitchen table inset into the window, bedroom and guest room, plus two and a half toilet's.  She'd added a den and a small library that were also included in the general new person tour.

 

However, certainly no Muggles had ever seen the  _ actual _  library that Hermione had in her possession.  Hidden by magic, it would certainly cause anyone unfamiliar with her world to think twice about the actual size of her flat.

 

In fact, after putting the kettle on, the library was the next stop on her mental list of things to do before revisiting with the Malfoy's later in the day.  One of Hermione's many side projects concerned itself with transferring much of the knowledge in her books to an easy to access database.  But due to her schedule, the way that technology acted around magic and the sheer amount of knowledge out there, it was slow going.  For the time being, if she really needed information in the Wizarding world, she would have to do it the way she'd done it since those early days at Hogwarts.

 

Read.

 

When she lifted the kettle, she watched a small piece of stiff parchment fall to the counter from where it had been leaning between the boxes of loose leave tea and the kettle itself.  Curious, she plucked it up from where it had landed and flipped it around to see who had sent it and how it had gotten in there while she'd been out.

 

A delighted smile curved her lips when she saw the minimalist, but somehow still elegant, handwriting that announced  _ Kingsley Shacklebolt _ on the front.  She knew she'd felt his presence in her magical wards when she'd gotten home but hadn't thought much of it as he'd promised to check in on her flat once or twice while she was gone (the war might be over but she had plenty of enemies regardless and plenty more that would certainly do more than just break and enter to access some of the things she kept in the library).  Setting the kettle on the stove top, pausing to turn the gas on, she wasted no time in opening the missive.

 

_ Hermione, _

 

_ I figured you would waste no time in making yourself a decent cup after languishing over there in the 'wilds' of the States.  I'm happy to say that your flat is exactly as you left it and none of your wards were even so much as breathed upon during your absence. _

 

_ I know for a fact that your schedule is, for once, free of commitments when you return; I somehow seem to have shirked - pardon, shifted, many of my own commitments this week.  Join me for dinner? _

 

_ ~K _

 

_ Post Script:  I took the liberty of purchasing a very good wine which I think you'll enjoy. _

 

She quickly added 'Respond to Kingsley' to her list of things to do as she attempted to refrain from grinning like a complete loon at his message.  There was nothing between the two of them beyond a deep and lasting friendship...

 

For the moment. Much to her delighted surprise, however, Hermione had started to view her old friend in a different light over the last year and it was clear even to her that Kingsley was on the same page. With their schedules, however, it had been a slow build and nothing that they’d talked about aloud to each other. The dinner with friends had slowly changed into dinners on their own or grabbing a cuppa when they were free. All perfectly friendly except for a building undertone she was more than willing to encourage and happy to take it as it came. And she was mostly content with that … though the idea was starting to stick that maybe this dinner would be the one where things changed?

 

The universe, considering how vast it was and how many people were in one little pocket of it, had a surprising ability of completely ignoring any good mood or lingering exhaustion before it rudely reintroduced reality to any situation.

  
Hermione groaned as the kettle came to life at the same time that Bill's face appeared in her floo.


	5. Interruptions Abound Before Dinner

With the kettle zapped with a stasis spell to keep it from either catching on fire if she left it on or to keep the water from going cold if she turned it off, Hermione cinched the belt on her robe tighter around her waist while she headed towards the floo.  By the time she managed to make it to the fireplace, Bill had already started to develop the classic impatient Weasley expression.  With the glaring exception of Arthur, over the years, Hermione had had the opportunity to witness it for various reasons on the entire Weasley family. 

 

"Can I help you, Mr. Weasley?" she asked as she settled comfortably on her knees.  Or as comfortable as she could get anyway.  Chatting via the floo network had never been the most comfortable of endeavors.

 

The aggravated look instantly melted away and Bill grinned.  "Actually, I'm the one who could be of help to you, Miss Granger," he responded, his smile teasing before disappearing into a frown.  "Wanted to let you know that I've been working on Malfoy's cane since Harry dropped it into my lap this morning..."

 

For a moment, his voice trailed off and Hermione wondered if there was something wrong with the floo connection.  But he continued, wryly, a moment later with: "Fleur sends her regards but would also like to lodge an official protest regarding the timing of the request."

 

Hermione shrugged one shoulder even though she knew Bill wouldn't really be able to see the movement.  "Tell her I'm thinking of lodging an official complaint myself," she responded with a laugh.  She sobered.  "Have you found anything yet, Bill?"

 

"Not much," Bill grunted, sounding both frustrated and intrigued.  "Harry's note was right on the mark about the complexity of the spells interwoven over the fucking thing.  The heart of it  _ might _  be an older and lesser known curse that sounds vaguely familiar but because it is an older and lesser known curse, it might not be, either."  He pulled a face.  "It'll probably take me a few days since I'm working without my crew on this.  It's a good thing I owed both you and Harry some favors, love, because this is certainly breaking a rule or two."

 

Oh, Hermione was more than aware of that. Working with the Malfoys, without the official go ahead, was bad enough; sending off the cane to Bill was a much larger issue that she hoped Harry was able to deal with if it came up. "Trust me, we're grateful for the help.  Have you caught hints of any rumors yet?"

 

"Word of Malfoy's absence hasn't even made it into the official channels here."  Unofficially was another story.  But Gringott's and their curse breakers knew a thing or two about keeping secrets when it suited them.  "As far as my superiors are concerned, they believe I'm having a quiet weekend with my wife."  He looked pained.  "As I was actually supposed to.  You're going to owe her one hell of a shopping trip, Hermione."

 

Now it was her turn to make a face.

 

"My team knows me well enough to know that something might be up but they'll keep their distance unless I give the word.  So, it's just me, Fleur and a four times becursed cane.  I really, _really_ hate you."

 

"I love you, too."  Hermione shifted as she tried to ease her aching knees a little bit.  "Is there anything that I can fill you in on that the note didn't cover?"

 

Bill stared at her through the flickering flames.  "Love, Harry wrote me a note at a bugger all hour of the morning, after he'd been worked right off his feet the entire day.  You're lucky the note contained more than a few stick figures and his signature."

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache, a well earned one at that, start to knock at the door.  "Alright, I'll give you a Cliffs Notes version..."

 

"Cliff?  Who's Cliff and why do you have his notes?"

 

"It's - never mind, Bill, just.  Never mind."

 

Over the next ten minutes, Hermione proceeded to fill in all the rather important bits that Harry had forgotten to add in.  Bill asked a question here or there but seemed rather content to soak up Hermione's version of the events.  They'd worked together often enough for him to know that she wouldn't leave out anything, important or no.

 

When they finally finished the floo call, Hermione's cheeks were a pleasant shade of red.  Despite the years she had been out of Hogwarts, it was still rewarding to be praised by someone she'd always rather looked up to.  He'd congratulated her on how they had dealt with the mist trap and had extended Fleur's invitation for dinner once "zat 'orrible mess is dealt wit'".  Hermione was fairly positive he'd gotten a good smack for that little impersonation.

 

It was a waiting game now - at least on Bill's side, anyway.  For Hermione, it was shaping up to be one of  _ those _ days.  With a sigh, she headed back towards the stove, determined to finally get that cup of tea she'd been trying to make .  Everything remained peaceful and quiet as she tapped the kettle with her wand and set it about it's business again.  It even lasted until after the water had boiled and she was pouring it into her favorite mug.

 

The light tapping on the window that owl deliveries used caused her to sigh heavily, head dropping forward as she contemplated simply ignoring the stupid thing.  But Crookshanks was already nudging the window open with his nose and studying the owl waiting patiently on the stoop.  Mug of tea in hand, she headed over to check out the owl herself.

 

It was an owl she’d seen numerous times but even after so many years, it still pained her to not see Hedwig calmly sitting on her windowsill.  Still, she was rather fond of Millie and she reached out to give the Burrowing Owl a quick scratch under the chin.  They were an unusual breed for England as they were more commonly found in North or South America.  After the war and before his Auror training had begun, Harry had traveled over to the States for a short break and had fallen in love with Millie after he’d rescued her from being ill-treated by some American wizards.

 

Millie offered her leg out and Hermione was quick to remove the parchment.  "I think Molly’s been overfeeding you again," she commented, dryly, as she summoned the treats from their spot.  Millie was quite enthusiastic as she gobbled up them as if she were afraid they’d be taken away.

 

The owl settled back, looking pointedly at Hermione's now empty hand as she waited her reply.

 

"Ungrateful thing," she teased, placing the cup of tea on a nearby table so she could open the parchment.

 

_ Hermione,  _

 

_ Seems we caught someone’s attention last night.  Watch yourself - everyone’s still up in arms about this. _

 

_ Luv _

_ Harry _

 

Hermione shook her head with a sigh.  Obviously, the Auror's would have known she had arrived at the Malfoy manor last night as they kept a close eye on the floo network attached to any that Lucius might have access to.  They wouldn't have known, however, what her precise business had been.

 

It also meant - ah, yes.

 

Hermione stuck her head out the window.  Witch, cat and owl stared down at a conspicuously absent spot on the sidewalk across the street from her flat.  The hustle and bustle of the afternoon crowd seemed to part around as if they wanted to avoid stepping in something.  Not a bad job of concealment but she'd certainly seen better.

 

"Well, I never," she huffed as she withdrew back into the flat.  The Auror's obviously meant well but she'd had her fill with well meaning government types to fill a lifetime.  Obviously they had to follow up on any lead but keeping an eye on  _ her _ ?  That took some cheek indeed.

 

She quickly jotted down a reply and sent the stomach that looked like an owl back on its way, leaving her with a cooling cup of tea and a growing headache.

 

"Maybe I should retire and move to the islands," she muttered as she headed towards her bedroom.  If she were lucky, she could get in a few hours of research before she was due at the Malfoy's for dinner.  Hermione figured that if she started trying to hunt for information on the curse, she at least would have a good foundation.  It was better than sitting around and doing nothing, after all.

 

She'd never been very good at being idle.

 

*

 

At exactly ten 'til 8, Hermione showed up at the Malfoy estate.  Considering her invisible, but not unnoticeable, visitor earlier in the day she had arrived with the expectation of a certain welcoming committee.  She was not disappointed, then, when several robed figures awaited her arrival at the front of the house itself.  It also did not surprise her much when a familiar looking figure stepped forward to greet her.

 

"Ms. Granger," Seamus said, lips twitching just a bit, as he offered her his hand.  Formalities must be played out in front of the men and women who didn't know their history.

 

She accepted it with a wry smile.  "Mr. Finnigan.  What an ... unexpected surprise to see you here."

 

He returned the wry look with one of his own before glancing over his shoulder at his fellow Aurors.  "Can we speak in private for a moment?"

 

Hermione cast a glance at the remaining figures.  All but one of them were unfamiliar to her - Terry Boot simply winked briefly before he returned to staring straight ahead - but this was Seamus and after all they'd been through, she trusted him completely.

 

After putting a safe enough distance between themselves and the others, Seamus turned to her and asked quietly, "Hermione, what in the hell is going on?"  His accent, thick on it's own, deepened even more telling her he was under some considerable stress.  No surprise there all things considered.  "We've got records placing you at the International Port Key office late last night, eventual destination the bloody fuckin' Malfoy's.  You being, well, you means that any heat's being kept off as much as we can and we're doing our best to keep it that way but some questions are being asked."

 

She blew a sharp breath out as she studied him before answering.  "They asked for my help, Seamus."

 

"They?"  His voice was sharp.  "Look, love, I happen to know that Harry wasn't home last night - Susan was with Ginny for most of the night before being quietly shown out.  Is he in on this?"  Besides being employed by St. Mungo's, Susan was also good friends with Ginny and Hermione knew that last night was their weekly get together.  Susan and Seamus might not be an official item just yet but she was sure to have made mention of Harry's absence last night.

 

Turning her back slightly on the rest of the group, Hermione dropped her voice even more.  "There's more to this than meets the eye and we're looking into it," she murmured.  "I don't  _ have _  anything else or I'd certainly tell you and Terry, at least.  Harry wants - needs - to keep this quiet. The Malfoys asked for our help and, as strange as it sounds, working with them is the only way forward that we see."

 

Seamus eyed her for a moment as he digested what she was telling him.  And what she wasn't.  He'd grown into that brain of his after Hogwarts and had managed to put away most of the rash and brash attitude that had defined him during his school years.  "Right, then, I can tell you this much.  Kingsley's aware that somethin's brewing but Robards doesn't or, at least, he's missing key pieces of information."  He gave her a crooked grin.  "Call it Order privilege if you'd like."  After the War had ended, Kingsley had quietly awarded the surviving members of Dumbledore's Army with official places amongst the Order of the Phoenix, effectively promoting the entire lot of them in one fell swoop.

 

Inactive but not disbanded, the Order served more as a type of gossip and quick newsline these days than an active insurgent group.  It had proven useful in the past and would, undoubtedly, prove useful in the future as well.

 

"He's got a few things coming down the line, official and the like, that will allow you - and Harry, if I'm assuming rightly - the ability to move on this without so much as a funny look.  But until then, you'll have to proceed  _ carefully _ , Hermione. Kingsley can only shield you all for so long before it all goes tits up."

 

The look she gave him was equal parts amusement and indignation.  "Proceed carefully? Who do you take me for?" she asked in a huff.  "Ron?"

 

He looked like he wanted to laugh but smothered it as he clasped her forearm in his hand and she returned the favor.  "Seriously, Hermione, be careful.  Robards is a decent enough bloke but there’s all this bloody pressure on him to serve up the Malfoys on a silver platter.  Old history might not be enough to save you until you get official.”  He sighed and tightened his grip slightly on her arm before he let go.  “Off to your war meeting or dinner party as it may be," Seamus said as they turned back towards the manor.

 

"With the Malfoys, Seamus, you can never quite be sure which is which."

 

At his gesture, the others melted back away from the door but Hermione caught Terry's murmured "Good luck" and smiled to herself as the doors opened at her touch.  Going into the lion's den she might be but at least she knew there were people on hand to pull her out. And Merlin help anyone who got between Seamus and Terry if she did end up in trouble.

 

Unsurprisingly, neither of the Malfoy's in residence met her at the door nor did Astoria.  The house elf that had the task of escorting her through to the dining room was, he told her, named Pickle.  When she didn't seem inclined to question his odd even by house elf standards name, Pickle relaxed even to engage in a little nonsense chitchat on their way through.

 

A sudden movement from the recess caused Hermione to jump sideways and draw her wand.   _ That _  caused Pickle to squeak in alarm and immediately vanish with a slight popping noise.  Something rippled in the shadows and a moment later Harry's face was thrown into sharp relief as he took off the Invisibility Cloak.  "Sorry, sorry!" he said, holding his hands in front of him as if to ward off a blow from his friend.

 

"Fucking hell, Harry James Potter, don't you ever do that to me again!" Hermione half-shrieked as she clutched at her chest with her free hand.

 

"Language, Granger!"  They heard Draco before they saw him and if it had been anyone else, anywhere else, it would have seemed as if he had sprinted into the hallway.  He smoothed a loose piece of hair out of his face as he tucked his own wand away, giving Harry a half-hearted glare.  "Now that you completely cocked that one up, why don't we try this as civilized adults?  You going to put that wand away, Granger?"

 

She glanced down at the wand clutched in her hand and gave Harry a glare of her own as he folded up the Invisibility Cloak.  "I'm not sure yet," Hermione muttered as she moved forward to follow Draco as the wizard turned on his heel and stalked back the way he came.  "Goodness, Harry, was that _really_ necessary?"

 

Harry had spent the entire time they had known each other perfecting the sheepish look and the practice certainly hadn't been wasted as he tucked her now wandless hand into his arm.  "Sorry, Hermione, really I am.  Saw the boys out there and decided that I'd better come in here without them noticing.  Did they give you much of a hard time?"

 

"Hardly.  Ran into Seamus with Terry in tow."

 

"Just like old times," Harry grinned.

 

Hermione grinned back, some of her ire draining as her heart rate returned to normal.  "A bit, yes."

 

In front of them, Draco spun around and walked backward so he could face them as they walked.  "Normally, I'd be a much nicer host to first time guests coming to dinner."  He glanced at Hermione and flushed a little, perhaps in shame of their shared history, and hurried on to say, "But this hallway is one we know they aren't listening in on so I can say here that dinner's been put on hold for the time being.  Mother and I found something in the attic earlier this afternoon."

 

Her fingers dug into Harry's arm as she leaned forward, almost overbalancing in her eagerness.  "What did you find?"

  
There was a glint in his eyes that hadn't been there earlier.  "Would you believe a hidden entry?"


	6. Down the Rabbit Hole

"We -"  There was enough gentle emphasis on the word that Hermione was willing to bet Narcissa had been forced to bend Draco to her will.  "- decided that this was best to be explored by yourselves, in case there were more traps, and that as anxious as we were to look for information it was certainly wiser to wait for your return than venture in without you."

 

As Hermione leaned forward to inspect the door, which was found tucked in the corner of the attic, she idly wondered how much that actually cost the matriarch of the Malfoy family to say.  No one in residence, servants included, ever recalled seeing the door there before and considering the amount of disturbed plaster and dust that littered the floor, it was obvious that it had been hidden by a multitude of ways.

 

It had been found by Draco who had, despite everything, gone in shortly before Hermione and Harry were due to arrive. He’d been drawn there by the feeling of a spell dissipating - whatever wards had been put there to shield the door from view had crumbled, failing for an unknown reason. 

 

Running his wand up and down the door, Harry frowned at the diagnostics.  "Several wards were recently taken off the door within the last 48 hours or so," he said.  "The magic that Draco felt disappearing appears to have been relatively new, set probably around the time of Lucius’ disappearance. The others are … old, very old." 

 

"How old?" Hermione and Astoria asked at the same time, curiosity piqued.  The two women looked up at each other, clearly startled, and both of them were forced to bite their lips to keep from giggling inanely.  Hermione was having trouble convincing herself that she should not be friends with the younger woman, even or especially considering the circumstances.

 

"Probably as long as some of the other protection wards surrounding the estate."  Draco stood on the other side of the door and opposite from Harry; crouched amongst the dust and remains of a wall, he looked like he was ready to burst if they didn't open the door right that bloody minute.  "Our relatives were rather paranoid," he finished with a small smile.

 

"It took an entire generation to see the manor completely finished," Narcissa filled in.  "They were very thorough and, yes, concerned about their welfare and that of their families and of those to come.  You would be hard pressed to find one unprotected stone on these grounds."

 

It made sense.  A great number of pureblood families were old money and many houses, manors and the like were built with the intention that they would last until ... until ... well.  Until their linage had, Hermione, supposed, simply ceased to exist.  With that anticipation came protection of all sorts in order to see ancestral homes remain fortified and families safe.  They ranged from the most simple protection spells to things with Darker intent.

 

"Harry, you take lead," Hermione said, used to giving commands and having them be acted upon.  "I'll follow behind but not too closely in case something goes wrong."

 

Narcissa's hand fell lightly upon the shoulder of her son.  "Draco," she said, warning and fear in her voice.

 

He patted her hand absently.  "No worries, Mother, I'll let the Gryffindor's have all the fun before I go in.  Easier to clean up a mess that way."

 

"So Slytherin of you," Hermione half-teased.

 

"So says the Gryffindor  _ not _ going first."

 

"Enough you two," Harry rebuked gently.  "Come on, Hermione, let's see where this particular rabbit hole leads, shall we?"

 

The door swung open easily enough for something that had been sealed behind plaster and wood. As they walked through it, even Hermione was forced to duck slightly as she followed Harry into the darkened hallway behind.  It made her wonder how the taller Lucius had managed it if he had indeed gone through the same passageway.  Two softly cast  _ Lumos' _ ' caused the dark to recede but only just barely; the pair walked slowly, ducking low hanging beams and edging around parts of walls that jutted out at odd angles.

 

They tested for spells and traps every few steps but beyond a general protection charm that came from the house itself, they were unable to find anything that so much even looked like magic.

 

Until the pair found themselves approaching a dead end; even though there was still a few more feet in front of him, Harry stopped so suddenly that Hermione bumped gently against his back before she was able to stop her forward momentum.  A frown formed over his face as he glanced around them with some concern.

 

"Would you say that this started in, roughly, the center of the house?" he asked over his shoulder.

 

Hermione nodded after a minute's thought spent going over the rough dimensions of the manor.  "Give or take, I suppose.  Why?"

 

"Because if that's the case then I think the last step I just took actually has me floating somewhere over the  _ edge _ of the manor proper," Harry said, scratching his chin as he thought about it.  "I felt the protective wards waver a bit and then disappear when - here, back up a step or two, would you?"

 

When she'd done so, Harry followed her closely and nodded.  "Yeah, back again, right as rain.  In fact, I don't think that space is technically on the  _ grounds _ .  It's got a sort of weird space and time feel to it, if that makes any sense."

 

Harry started when Hermione suddenly gripped his arm right above the elbow with the hand not holding her wand.  "Harry, if what you say is true then Lucius could have Disapparated from that spot," she hissed, afraid her voice would travel down the darkened hall behind them.  "We know he'd shaken the tracking spell earlier in the evening and before he came into the attic but any actual Apparating of any kind would have been impossible with the Anti-Disapparition Jinx still up."

 

"You realize none of this makes any sense."  As he spoke, Harry was waving his wand back in forth a tight and complicated motion.  Diagnostic spells might not have been his forte but to get anywhere as an Auror one had to at least be decent at them.  There were a number of things that a wizard, or witch, could hide with enough luck, skill and spell power and he had to have the ability to counter all of that.

 

A faint wisp of spell remains warbled into view and Harry concentrated in an effort to expand the spell so that Hermione might be able to see it as well.

 

"I see it," Hermione responded as soon as it came into being before her eyes.  She dropped to the ground in front of it and rummaged around in her robe pockets to produce a well worn book and self-filling quill.  "It's almost impossible to tell where someone's gone off to," she muttered, half to herself and half to Harry, "but the whole thing requires so much bloody concentration and intent that something is always sort of left behind..."

 

"Er, I'll go let the Malfoy's know, shall I?" Harry asked hesitantly as he knew full well what Hermione was like when she got like that.  When the only response was a solitary grunt, he quickly left her to her study and headed back the way they'd come, the light from his wand guiding his feet.

 

Three anxious faces greeted Harry as he exited from the door and he brushed plaster and cobwebs off his hair as he straightened.

 

Draco, the more impatient of the two only due to his mother's ability to keep a tight rein on any of her emotions, was immediately demanding answers from him.  "Well?  Did you find anything?  Obviously not Father but  _ something _ , Potter?  _ Anything? _ "

 

"Yeah, actually, we did but first - Mrs. Malfoy.  Would it surprise you to know that you have a bit of house that seems to exist, well, elsewhere from the rest of the grounds?"

 

Narcissa raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't really seem the least bit surprised.  "I might have mentioned before that the Malfoy's have long been a ... cautious family," she responded.  "I wouldn't be surprised to eventually find entire rooms, long forgotten, that existed 'elsewhere'."

 

He nodded, equally as unsurprised.  Before Draco could beat it out of him, Harry quickly told them what they'd found.  "...she's back there now, trying to see if we can get anything out of the remains of the spell that's lingering in the other space room," he finished, wondering if there actually was a term for that kind of other dimension sort of thing.

 

There probably was.

 

And Hermione probably knew what it was.

 

Harry decided to simply  _ not _ ask her and leave it at that.

 

"Can she do that?"  Narcissa asked, sounding doubtful.  "I thought it was quite difficult."

 

"It’s difficult but not impossible. Beside, it's Hermione," Harry said simply.  "If she can't figure it out, she'll hit it with a book until it spits out the an-"

 

A sudden, high pitch scream interrupted his amused words before it cut off as suddenly as it had started.

 

" _ Hermione! _ "

 

He'd spun on his heel and started for the door even before he'd finished yelling out her name and he was only vaguely conscious of Draco, wand drawn, hot on his heels and the sounds of Narcissa and Astoria’s voices raised in alarm.  Unheeding of the walls or low beams this time, Harry sprinted for the end of the hall only to see the book of notes fluttering shut from where it had been dropped.  But there was no sign of Hermione at all.

 

Faster than he'd done originally, Harry called up the same spell that had shown him the original lingering spell.  The traces from Hermione were considerably brighter and fresher; altogether, however, it wasn't a simple  Disapparation spell.  It looked like some sort of weird combination between a Port Key and  Disapparation hybrid.

 

But he could use that to his advantage.

 

He turned back to Draco.  "The Aurors on your front lawn," Harry said, voice firm and calm even though his eyes betrayed the fury that shook him to his core at Hermione's disappearance.  "Go get them, tell them about this room and that Hermione was taken without her consent.  I'm going after her and they'll be able to follow my trail as I'll activate the homing beacon all of us carry."

 

"You're bloody barking mad if you think I'm letting you go alone."  Draco held up a hand sharply in front of Harry's face.  "You lot are given partners for a damned reason, Potter.  Going into a dangerous situation alone, one that blindsided  _ Granger _ , is just suicide.  You won't be any use to her, or me, if you end up in some dragon's stomach."  The other reason didn't need to be said.

 

If his father was there, he needed to be there before a horde of Auror’s came after them.

 

"Fine," Harry snapped.  "Go tell your Mother to do what you're being too dense to do and if you're not back by the time I've got a good read on this, then I'm leaving without you."

 

In less time than Harry would have given him credit for, Draco had returned from instructing Narcissa on what to do.  The younger Malfoy had probably moved that quickly in part that he feared that Harry would indeed leave him behind and in part to avoid Narcissa's instance that he stay behind where it was safe.

 

The anger and terror Harry was feeling had sharpened his focus, so even by the time that Draco returned, he’d managed to grab a hold of the magic that he needed to use to follow Hermione.

 

Not giving himself time to think how odd it was that he, Harry Potter, was about to Side-Along with Draco Malfoy to rescue Hermione Granger, he grabbed Draco's arm firmly in his grasp and blindly sent them twisting into the ether, trusting on instinct and magic that they would follow Hermione's trail and not end up somewhere they didn't want to be.

 

Like the stomach of a dragon, for instance.

 

When they landed, they stumbled apart - Apparating had never been a fun experience but blindly doing it while doing a Side-Along disoriented the pair enough that it was almost impossible to keep to their feet.  Harry started to stagger forward, cradling his head as a headache of immense proportions started in, only to freeze in his tracks as a sharp voice rang out.

  
" _ Stop right there! _ "


	7. Where the unlikely alliance is solidified

" _ Stop right there! _ "

"That's Granger," Draco muttered.  "I'd know that shriek anywhere."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped as he raised his wand above his head.  The  _ Lumos _ spell spilled out brightly and he winced at the headache that was blossoming along with the light spell.  Grimly he forced his eyes open so he could get a good, clear look at where they were and what they were dealing with.

He was surprised to see that they appeared to be standing in the middle of an abandoned church - though long forgotten, a scent incense hung heavy in the air - with no clear sign of Hermione.  He called her name though he remained rooted in his spot, following her instructions.  She was alive and obviously knew more than he did.

The light spell did little more than push the shadows back, throwing what he could see of the church into sharp angles and edges where pews poked out of dark shadows and mice scurried in and out of the circle of light that surrounded Draco and Harry.

"Hermione?" he called softly.  "It's darker in here than Merlin's tomb.  Where  _ are _ you?"

"I - I -"  He heard her swallow and cough; her voice sounded muffled and scared.  "To your left, I think."

"You think?"  Draco responded, using his own light spell as he swung his wand around him in a wide arc.  He stopped when the light hit to their left and showed jagged wooded boards in a rough circle in the floor.  Only maybe less than a handful of steps away from where they stood.  "Bloody hell, Granger, what happened?  You in one piece down there?"

"I don't know what happened!"  She sounded positively spitting mad.  "And yes, I think I am.  I can't - Harry.  I can't see anything.  When I was studying the spell when you left, something was triggered.  Another trap.  It acted like some sort of ..."

"Port key, Disapparition combo, yes, yes, I know.   _ Are you alright _ ?  I promise that we can talk spell semantics until the sun rises but later!"

"I tripped another one when the floor gave out from under me, a sort of blindness curse.  I can't see, my bloody wand is buried underneath rubble and when I tried to use wandless magic, I nearly caused a cave in.  So no, I'm not all bloody right, Harry James Potter!"

Draco's eyebrow rose slightly.  "If that's not all right, Potter, I'd hate to see -"

A slight hint of movements in the shadows in front them was their only warning.

"Get down!" Harry roared, springing forward to tackle Draco to the floor as green magic and death whistled overhead.  They hit the floorboards and bounced, rolling into the mess of knocked over pews and dust.  From the hole where Hermione was trapped, a  _ Stupefy _ spell rolled up and out from the hole, wandless but not lacking any power for it, and hurtled towards the direction of the hidden caster.

The blindly thrown spell hit nothing but someone yelped in surprise as it sped over head before they turned tail and Apparated away.

A slight rumbling noise followed and now it was Hermione's turn to yell as she threw up another wandless spell to keep from being crushed as dirt and wood moved and shifted around her.

Harry attempted to get to his feet, wand in hand, knowing he had to get to Hermione before...before...

He grabbed his head and groaned as the headache multiplied by a thousand and in a fit of self-preservation, his mind simply shut down as the pain reached an intolerable level.  The wand dropped from his hand as he toppled back onto the floor.

"Potter?"  Draco hissed as he crouched behind one of the pews, his own wand held firmly out in front of him.  He was attempting to look in three directions at once - towards where the assassin had been, towards Potter and to where Hermione was trapped - and it was playing havoc on his already frazzled nerves.  "Oh fuck, this is not good."

Carefully, Draco moved towards Potter where he edged a hand out to feel under the other man’s neck; a breath he hadn't realized he was holding chuffed out when he felt the steady heartbeat under his fingers.

"Harry?  Harry, what's happened?"  Hermione's voice was strained and scared but Draco was simply relieved that he wasn't going to have to dig her body out from under mounds of dirt and broken flooring.  "...Draco? For Merlin’s sake, would someone please answer me?"

He started and shook himself.  "Here, Granger, and in one piece."  Thanks to Potter, he thought with resignation.  That was two he owed the ponce.  "Potter just sort of grabbed his head and fell over right proper after whoever tried to kill us bolted when they failed."

He thought she whispered something along the lines of "His headaches" but as her voice was distorted, he couldn't be sure.  "You need to get him some help!  Take him to St. Mungo's!"

"And leave you?  He'd have my head for sure when he woke up.  And..."  Draco hesitated and felt honest to god guilt.  It wasn't an emotion he was used to when dealing with any portion of the Trio. But it was guilt that colored his next words because he … didn’t want her to think badly of him, not about this, not when he needed her help. And that came as one hell of a shock to him.  "Granger.  Think.  I show up with an injured Harry Potter at St. Mungo's after my father's up and vanished and I'll be locked up with questions being asked much later.  Your Robards likes to jump to conclusions that will do none of us any good.  Especially you at the moment."

Now he heard her clearly.  "Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ !  Wait, wait, I know!  Take him back to the Manor, take him to Seamus.  Tell him 'Umbridge has no love for centaurs' and he'll know I'm all right and won't arrest you on the spot. You can then follow your own Apparation back here, even if you don’t know where here is, exactly. Or at all."

Still, he hesitated.  "Granger..."

"Don't worry, Malfoy," Hermione said and he could almost hear her smile.  "I'm not going anywhere."

*

Hermione had faced more horrors in her teenaged years than some senior level Aurors had their entire careers.  What hadn’t killed her had made her stronger but they had left lifelong scars that would never truly fade.

And now, here she sat with her back against what felt like one of the most stable of the 'walls' that surrounded her.  Without her wand.  In the pitch black. That was caused because she was temporarily blind. 

Yes, her wandless magic worked just fine but using it disrupted the very delicate balance of the dirt, wall and wood that still somehow stood even when the trap under her feet had gone off.  Now, the only thing keeping them from crushing her was her stability field and, in her current state, she had no idea how well it was holding up.

The inability to do much of anything coupled with the blindness and the freshly unearthed memories of Bellatrix’ torture left her feeling hollow and shaky.

Trying to keep as small as possible, she hugged her knees to her chest and pillowed her head on top of them.  It helped to keep some of the dust out of her mouth as she breathed and fought down surge after surge of panic attacks.  The attacks had lasted a full year after the war until she'd gone and sought official help at Minerva's insistence.

Wizards didn't really have a word for it, in some ways they were further behind the curve than they wanted to admit, but muggles did - panic attacks bordering on PTSD.  And no wonder, the squib therapist had said, considering what Hermione's life had even before the Second Wizarding War.  The sessions had worked far better than she’d expected them to and she’d kept up with them for a number of years.

These days, she was mostly over the attacks but now and again they came back with a vengeance.

Hermione's fingers dug into her knees and squeezed until something popped as she struggled to remember that she  _ had _ to breathe.  Breathe.  What if Draco left her there, blind and windless?  Breathe.  What if the assassin came back?  Breathe.  What if she were to be trapped in the hole for the rest of her life?   _ Bre- _

"...anger?  Granger?  Hermione!"

Her head shot up as Draco's voice penetrated the overlapping thoughts that had been running rampant in her own head.  "Malfoy?"

"Oh thank fuck, thought you'd passed out on me!  Can you still not see?"

"Are you using  _ Lumos _ ?"

"Yes."

"Still blind as a badger, thanks."  Carefully, Hermione struggled to gain her feet and winced as she felt her stasis field buckle before it stabilized once more.  "How's Harry?  Did you have any trouble with Seamus?"

There was a pause and Hermione realized he'd probably shaken his head in response before he'd remembered that she couldn't see the motion.  "Not once I gave him your little code.  Potter seems to be okay, though he still wasn't awake when they were about to take him to St. Mungo's.  I came back here as soon as I could get away, didn't bother to think to tell them where you were since I don't actually rightly know where we are."

"I’m not sure how I’m going to get out," Hermione commented once Draco had finished.  "The status field means I can't reach any sort of handhold and without being able to see..."

"No worries, Granger, just hold very still if you'd please."

Hermione froze when she heard him cast  _ Mobilicorpus _ and less than a minute later, felt herself start to slowly - very slowly - rise towards Draco's voice.  It was suddenly hard to breathe again. She must have whimpered or made some noise because she heard him say, as if talking to a spooked horse, "It's fine, Granger, you're almost out. I’m not going to drop you.  Just a few more seconds and I'll have you right out of that mess."

If that surprised her, what really surprised her was feeling him firmly grasp both of her arms when she finally came into range and that Draco didn't let go even once her feet touched the ground.  Her knees wobbled for a moment and he tightened his grip but she had more important things to worry about.  "My wand," she gasped, suddenly  _ needing _ her wand in her hand.

"Now that you're out -” Draco dropped one hand off of Hermione’s arms. “-  _ Accio _ Hermione Granger's wand!"  A faint rumbling noise erupted after the spell was released - her wand punching out a hole in the mound of debris it had been buried under so it could zoom through the stasis field and then up and out, slapping firmly into his extended hand.  They immediately moved backwards as the entire floor shook as Hermione's spell finally collapsed under the strain and the hole filled in under less than ten seconds.

Silently, Draco handed her the wand and her fingers tightened around it like she was never going to let it go.

  
"I've had enough of this place for one night," he declared as he performed a Side-Along.


End file.
